


a fool's errand

by bitterdwarfalmond



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Angst, Dissociation, Hopeful Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Time Loop, kinda???, p5 spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-31
Updated: 2021-01-31
Packaged: 2021-03-18 11:53:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29117811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitterdwarfalmond/pseuds/bitterdwarfalmond
Summary: Sae huffs out another breath, “...Fine then. My time is up here,” she sighs. “Thank you for your cooperation.”Wait - was that it? Was she just going to leave? He tries to wrap his tongue around words for something to say, anything to keep her here. No she can’t leave she can’t leavecan’tleavecan’tleavecan’t--Not a sound leaves his mouth.The door opens, and it’s all over again before it even started. The small splintering sound of a bullet entering his head bounces between his ears until it settles into a dull ache behind his eyes; and then everything stills.--The interrogation room goes a little differently.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist
Comments: 4
Kudos: 110





	a fool's errand

**Author's Note:**

> The interrogation room plot point is so messy, so what if I messed it up even more and made some time looping nonsense?

He wasn’t entirely sure why, but all of the sudden a wave of dread crashed over him. Something was terribly wrong, but Akira couldn’t place what that  _ something _ was. Sae was looking at him, although he couldn’t really make out her facial expression. If he had to guess it would have to be something adjacent to concern.

“Kurusu-kun I need you to talk to me if I am going to help you.”

Akira shakes his head, only half aware he’s even moving at all. He can’t tell her anything. But if he doesn’t say anything she is going to walk out and he isn’t sure he can handle being alone again. There is no way he’s willingly staying here any longer than he has to - not when his entire body feels as if it’s been submerged in ice water for at least a few months.

There was a chance that he wouldn’t make it out of here. Inexplicably, Akira started thinking about Morgana, and his complaints when Akira messed with his little toe beans before he went to bed. 

There was a chance he wouldn’t see him again.

If Sae says anything else before she closes the door, Akira doesn’t hear it. 

When the door opens again Akira is still in a daze. The room is either spinning one hundred miles per hour or not at all, making the switch between the two feel like whiplash. His surroundings are blurry, his insides are fuzzy, and if someone asks him one more question he’s going to vomit. 

He thinks he hears someone else in the room. It’s hard to tell if they’re addressing  _ him  _ or not, but they must be. There isn’t anyone else in here, is there?

Their voice is familiar. At least Akira thinks he’s heard it somewhere before. But he doesn’t get the chance to place it before the world freezes. A sharp bolt of pain pierces through his skull, and if Akira could scream he would. 

It feels like he’s viewing himself from across the room. Far, far away from his own body; just  _ watching  _ himself. 

He remembers a sharp smile and words that were like jagged pieces of glass as they embedded themselves into Akira’s mind. “ _ You seem too calm for this,”  _ they sneered _. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” _

Then he comes back to himself, blinking rapidly as Sae snaps her fingers in front of his face - No doubt trying to get his attention.

“Kurusu-kun can you hear me?”

He can only grunt in response.  _ What just happened? Where am I?  _

“I’m going to ask you one more time,” Sae breathes out, sounding exasperated. “Tell me who has been assisting you, if you do that - then I promise you I will do everything I can to help you.”

_ Oh right, he’s in an interrogation room. _

_ Why was he here again? Didn’t he just- _

Sae huffs out another breath, “...Fine then. My time is up here,” she sighs. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

_ Wait - was that it? Was she just going to leave?  _ He tries to wrap his tongue around words for something to say, anything to keep her here.  _ No she can’t leave she can’t leavecan’tleavecan’tleavecan’t--  _

Not a sound leaves his mouth.

The door opens, and it’s all over again before it even started. The small splintering sound of a bullet entering his head bounces between his ears until it settles into a dull ache behind his eyes; and then everything stills.

The lights flicker, and then dim until darkness overwhelms Akira’s vision. The last image imprinted in his mind is one Akechi Goro, eyes obscured by his hair and lips pulled back into a bitter smile.

This dance was exhausting. This constant back and forth that didn’t feel as if it would ever end. It hasn’t been long enough for Akira to start picking out every inconsistency yet. He’s hoping it won’t get to the point where he can, but well... it doesn’t seem like the situation is entirely in his control either.

Out of the few things he  _ has _ picked up (not that they were much help), he’s noticed that sometimes a guard accompanies Akechi into the room, and sometimes one doesn’t. Akira wonders what exactly happens out there for that change to occur, but he wasn’t entirely inclined to find out. 

Sometimes Akechi talked for a long time. Spitting out some monologue that was most definitely rehearsed in front of a mirror until it was memorized both forwards,  _ and _ backwards. Eventually though, he stopped talking entirely. Akechi would just walk in and without any preamble he’d pull the trigger. A few times the lines in his body reminded Akira of a wind-up toy that had been wound almost too tightly. There was a certain stiffness to his joints that made every movement look forced. And anytime his face wasn’t entirely blank and lifeless (except for the occasional wicked grin, but those seemed to come less and less now), he just looked frustrated. 

Sometimes it really hurt, and Akira could feel his life being torn away from his body. 

And sometimes he didn’t feel a thing.

Akira’s vision swam. Every light was a beacon and every sound was roaring water in his ears. There were times where he swore he was experiencing everything in third person. No longer forced to play the role of the hero and downgraded to a measly spectator.

Every time Akechi walked into the room he desperately wanted to reach out. He wanted to talk to him, but he had no idea what he’d say.

_ Is there anything he could say?  _ And if there was,  _ would Akechi even listen? _

Akira’s thoughts are cut off as the only door out of this god forsaken room is opened again.

His head is screaming at him to just do something, to try anything. But one look at Akechi’s face makes him do a double-take. 

He looks so tired. It makes Akira wonder if he’s ever had a break before. It doesn’t seem likely, though he certainly looks like he could use one right now. 

Akechi shuts the door quietly, then his eyes shift to the floor.

_ Was he- was he hesitating? _

Unlike any attempt thus far, Akechi strides up and gently takes Akira’s face into his hands. Thumbs ghosting over every bruise that’s been pressed into his skin.

Akira tries to search his eyes for any kind of hint as to why he’s deciding to show kindness -  _ can this be considered kindness? - _ this one time out of the many,  **many** others.

But he doesn’t find anything.

One of the hands on his cheek moves up to brush the fringe from his forehead, and a set of lips lightly touch above his eyebrows.

Neither of them say a word.

Akira welcomes the small moment of respite. It would be more comforting if not for the fact that they both know that’s not how this ends.

In one moment where it was warm, there is now something cold digging into his forehead. He takes a deep breath, and he swears he sees Akechi take one too.

And before everything cuts to black, and Akira has to relive this horrible nightmare all over again; he thinks that maybe he saw Akechi’s hands start to tremble. 

He fades in, then out.

Sae leaves, detective enters, lights out.

Then the lights come back on, but they’re SO bright and if he has to deal with this one more time he may implode. 

Knocking on death’s door wasn’t even close to the right metaphor for this moment; and that’s saying something. It’s more like if death had something equivalent to a doggy door and Akira was poking his head through it just to find a conflicted detective with a handgun on the other side.

Clearly he wasn’t doing something right. Unfortunately for him though, his muddled brain can’t comprehend a goddamn thought to figure out what the correct thing was? What was expected of him right now? Was he supposed to beg? Or cry? Promise he’ll never commit another crime again? Maybe sweet talk his soon to be murderer into, oh he doesn’t know, maybe not murdering him? But it seemed like he was making progress… although he hasn’t been doing anything differently.

“I can’t keep doing this,” Akira barely manages to say. Each consonant violently scraping against his esophagus as the words are forced from his throat.

If talking was going to hurt this badly every time he needed to make a point, or correct Akechi for his bizarre backward thinking. Maybe a bullet in the head wasn't looking too bad right now.

_ NO no focus, you are not settling for this. You’re going to make it out. There are others counting on you. _

_ … “Others counting on you”  _ rings dangerously in his mind for a few beats.

It would feel more reassuring if they weren’t the reason he was in this mess in the first place. They could’ve picked any other plan, but of course they’d all agree on the one that puts him at the most risk. Because Akira was the leader; but not only that. He was dependable, brave, unflappable, everything that anyone needed at any given time. __

_ But still not enough _ , a bitter voice sneers.

A strong supportive pillar that could (and would, because it’s not like he’s being given a choice) hold anyone’s weight. Whether or not Akira could actually provide for them didn’t matter. If there was something they needed and Akira was, well… if he was Akira and every other label associated with him then he could give. And they would take. And everyone would be happy.

Oh, he loves them; wouldn’t have gotten this far without them. Akira doesn’t have enough energy to be angry, but a small part of him still wishes they would’ve taken his two cents on the matter of his own life.

A click of a door is all he needs to hear to remember that his time is limited. How many times has it been? Probably too many if he’s forgotten already. 

Did Sae leave? Or did Akechi enter? Akira couldn’t remember anymore, did he even talk to Sae this time?

Akira raises his chin. In the doorway is a pale face framed with hazelnut hair looking like they’ve seen a ghost. Akira decides then and there that the last thing he wants to do is look in a mirror; he doesn’t even want to think about what damage has been done to his face, let alone his entire body.

“... I can’t keep doing this,” Akechi whispers, looking haunted. 

Akira’s facial expression must speak for itself because he continues with: “...What is happening?” and Akira’s heart breaks, just slightly. He sounds so defeated. “Can I assume that this is happening to you too? … Are you even here with me right now?”

Akira nods and a sharp pain passes through his temples with the motion. He knows that saying something would be a better answer but he doesn’t trust his vocal chords to cooperate with him. 

Akechi lets out a breath and presses a hand against the side of his face, refusing to make eye contact. Which Akira doesn’t take offense to. As awful as dying over and over again was, he couldn’t even begin to think what it would be like to be the one  _ doing _ the killing. Especially when you didn’t want to. 

_ Was he still trying to rationalize this? GOD someone help him. _

“...I don’t want to keep hurting you--”

“--Then don’t,” Akira chokes out before his mind can catch up.

The look Akechi gives him makes Akira think that he somehow messed up again. The one time he does something different, and he does it wrong.  _ Go figure. _

But then Akechi’s body starts trembling. He opens his mouth a few times, immediately closing it afterwards. Shutting down his train of thought before it even begins.

He takes a few tentative steps forward, towards Akira, stopping just short of the steel table. 

  
“...Why aren't you angry with me?” Akechi says. Voice quiet, but firm.

“Why would I be angry with you?” Akira’s jaw feels like it’s been filled with lead,  _ how is he going to keep this up? _

“Because you should be…” Akechi's voice stumbles over the words, but he keeps talking anyway. “Every time I walked in here I was given a choice, and every single time I chose to  _ kill  _ you. That should be enough of a reason to hate me.”

“I don’t have a reason to--” Akira starts, only to be cut off soon after. 

“--You have every reason to hate me,” Akechi snarls.

“That doesn’t mean I have to give up on you.”

Akechi must not have liked that response, because in the next few moments he was striding around the table with a very intense expression on his face as he forcefully grabs Akira’s chin so they were staring right at one another. 

Pain radiates from Akira’s face where Akechi was digging in his fingers. He couldn’t help wincing and gritting his teeth, which only made it feel even worse. Akira was starting to get a little afraid, not of Akechi - even though Akechi seems to be very intent on making himself look as intimidating as possible, looming threateningly over Akira with his brows furrowed and lips pressed together - no, what he was actually afraid of was potentially throwing up on Akechi when they were finally getting  _ somewhere _ . He was still woozy and on the verge of being completely out of it, barely holding on by his fingernails just trying to stay conscious. 

“... I don’t understand you,” Akechi finally murmurs, loosening his grip on Akira’s chin, not quite taking his hand back yet. 

Akira was really starting to lose it. He just wants to go home. Perferably with Akechi in tow to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid after they left; which was another thing Akira needed to make sure of.  _ That they would leave. _ This wasn’t going to continue any longer, no more looping, no more fading out. Just the promise of an uncomfortable mattress and an extremely long nap. 

“You don’t need to... just -” His sight is starting to blur, everything in the room is being broken down into simple shapes that meld together around the edges. Akira takes a deep breath to try and steady himself. To get back any resemblance of -  _ of what? Stability?  _

Akira takes another deep breath, and tries again. “... Akechi, please. Why don’t you just help us? Stop doing whatever the  _ hell  _ this is, and look around yourself. What do you gain from this? What  _ good _ does  _ this  _ do?”

Akechi seems to mull it over for a few moments, but Akira isn’t sure how long it takes for him to answer since his perception of time is  _ completely  _ and  _ utterly _ shot. 

“...And by ‘us’ you mean your merry little band of -”

“For god sakes Akechi… What do you have to lose?” Akira’s voice comes out brittle and hoarse. His tone alone must have been enough to tip the scales in his favor because Akechi’s face softens a fraction. It’s not much, but it’s  _ enough.  _

“... your friends won't be very happy about this.”

Akira leveled a half-hearted glare at him. “Since when do you care about what they think?”

Akechi’s shoulders start to shake as he lets out a little incredulous laugh.

“You’re unbelievable.”

**Author's Note:**

> i am slowly learning how formating on ao3 works :)


End file.
